Immunity
by Erin Bloodrein Sage
Summary: Daryl has always been a hot tempered guy, but can a girl with a secret change that? And can her secret save them all? Set in season 3 and includes minor changes. Check it out.
1. Chapter 1

Immunity

●**So this is a "Walking Dead" story challenge given to me by my very dear friend Kiteria Faye (who, might I add, is a very talented author and I recommend you read her stories) I hope yall enjoy and let me know what you think●**

**Additional note****: most if not all of this will be in the POV of my OC. Occasionally I'll switch it around but not much. Enjoy xD**

**I** (sadly)** DO NOT OWN THE WALKING DEAD**

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Chapter 1: Prologue

Before the dead began to walk, there were signs. Signs most of us couldn't see because we chose to ignore them.

The CDC, however, saw them. Saw them and forgot to warn the rest of us. Though it was not their fault. They didn't have time to contain it or study it. Didn't have time to create a proper vaccine or test it. Hell, they didn't have time to name it.

And it was all HIS fault.

My father, a former scientist of the CDC, broke into one of the labs to get different samples of the virus and did it without being caught.

You hear about the wackos or conspirators, how they just know things or assume its something else entirely. That was my father. He was brilliant and smart but took the unknown too seriously and for that he was asked to resign. It drove him mad.

He wanted to prove them all wrong. Prove that it was him who was right. Because he just knew.

The world we knew is gone.

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**●yall know me haha always gotta have a prologue. Until next time!●**


	2. Three Questions

Immunity

Chapter 1: Three Questions

**●First off I wanna apologize for taking so long to update. School and work can be a pain that way haha but here it is! The official first chapter XD I hope yall enjoy and thank those of you so very much for favoriting, revewing, and following simply from the prologue, you have no clue how happy that made me! ●**

**Thank you:**

**gagesmith450**

**Kiteria Faye**

**writingNOOB**

**Guest (all 3 of you)**

**Gilyflower**

**)- I DO NOT OWN THE WALKING DEAD -(**

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-:-Karin-:-

Their stench still had a way of making me feel sick. It was something you kept telling yourself you'd get used to, but never did. It was like their growling moans. I'd heard so many of them that they began to blur but the eerieness of it was something I would never get used to. Something I could accept, however, was their speed. Each of the decaying undead had one speed, slow walk. And in this moment, I was thankful for that.

I realize now how stupid it was to think that there wouldn't be so many undead in the woods. I'd forgotten the animals and farms in the area. I guess I'd hoped that they would stay in or around the cities for a while longer. My hope was shattered when a small group of undead surrouned me, which is how I got here. Running through the woods without a clue of where I was going. The green trees seemed to come closer together as I ran and I noticed how they became thinner as well. I was smart enough to know that there had to be a path or road near by. I again hoped I was right because that wasn't always the case.

Suddenly, the world spun as I tripped over something on the ground. When I hit the dirt, I tumbled over my side twice and landed on my backpack. My ankle felt like it had been snapped and my arm burned. Lifting my arm up I saw dirt mixing in a small gash along my forearm and mentally cursed myself. I sat up and saw what I tripped over. It was an undead who's leg was trapped under a fallen tree. Before the outbreak, this undead would've been a hunter. Remnants of his camouflage jacket and pants were stained with dry blood. His eye sockets had sunken in along with his cheeks while his jaw looked broken on one side. A boney hand was reaching for my foot, almost like a plea.

I hissed as I stood up and put my weight on my left foot. Taking the opportunity, I looked around trying to figure out where to go. The sun was still high in the sky and I needed to get somewhere before that changed to bandage my arm. Not far off in the distance I heard the eerie growls that signaled my need to move on. The limp would slow me down greatly and now that I was bleeding, the dinner bell had officially been rung.

I was lucky enough to still be faster than the undead and after an hour or so of wandering, I came to the edge of the woods. Just beyond a small wooden bridge and two layers of barbed wire fence stood a large stone prison. Within the fences were thick logs holding the outter fence up. As I limped over the wooden bridge I could see random bodies belonging to the undead along the fence. Further away I saw the entrance and paused. Around the outside of the gate were many sharpened peices of wood that were angled from the ground. I had to give whoever did that props, it was smart as a defense. My grip tightened on the strap of my bag when I heard the growls off behind me. I didn't see anyone in the prison yard or the towers that stood in the corners and I was willing to bet that if there were people here they'd be either cops or prisoners.

As I limped alongside the fence towards the front gate, I noticed a boy facing away from me. I took a breath to yell but instantly stopped myself. Yes this place was protected but large numbers of undead could easily take down these fences. Grabbing the fence for balance, I looked over the yard again just in case someone happened to walk outside. The boy at the entrance was still turned away from me so I once again started walking along the fenceline. My arm was burning and I'm sure the wound needed to be stitched, but my ankle only needed to be rested. The idea of stitches, resting, and many other needed things scurried about my mind like rabbits when I was pulled backwards by a decaying arm that had crossed over my chest. I screamed as the undead and I fell to the ground. The strength these undead possessed was amazing to me. It was unlike anything I'd seen in a living man or woman. But amazed or not, I still fought against this undead who was doing his best to take a chunk out of my neck. From the corner of my eye I saw two more undead making their way to me. Their arms swayed when they walked and one had only half an arm. I was thankful to my bag and how it put enough of a gap between myself and the undead under me.

While I was able to get up, I found I had no chance of getting away. With my ankle and no weapon, I was done for. I limped backwards until my back hit the fence and tried to think of something to do. In that second my ears exploded into a wave of high pitched ringing and the undead with half an arm fell back with a bullet in its head. The bullet had come from behind me, from behind the fence. While the ringing continued the other undead met the same death as his friend and the one who pulled me to the ground finally stood only to be thrown back down by a headshot.

I was vaguely aware of someone talking to me but I had yet to turn around. The ringing in my ears faded and I finally turned. On the otherside of the fence stood two people. A man and woman. The man wore a once white shirt and dirty jeans. His boots and belt matched in brown leather and were worn. He had messy brown hair that curled slightly and a slight beard. The gun he was holding would go in the holster hanging around his waist any time he wasn't using it. Blue eyes watched me closely and I realized it wasn't him who was talking to me a moment ago, but the woman he was with. She had shoulder length brown hair and a kind face. She wore a brown tanktop with slightly torn jeans and black boots. Her gun had no holster, at least it wasn't on her. She was watching but I saw worry also in her hazel eyes.

"Are you okay?"

The woman asked me. I nodded holding my arm close to my chest and doing my best to stay standing on my left foot. The woman looked at the man and back to me while tucking the gun in the waistline of her jeans.

"Your arm,"

She nodded her head to my arm and walked up to the fence.

"Can I see it?"

She asked. With a glance towards the man who still had his gun up, I stepped up to the fence and slightly leaned against a metal rod. I held up my arm and she observed it. Without looking away she slightly turned to the man.

"Rick, she needs stitches."

She said turning away from me.

"Daddy could easily clean it up."

She added. The man, Rick, lowered his gun and looked at the entrance. When I looked I noticed that the boy was faced towards us now and had a gun in hand.

"Alright."

Was all he said as he put his gun in the holster. Rick's voice was deeper than I thought it'd be. He looked at me and started walking to the gate motioning me to follow. I began limping along the fence once again for, hopefully, the last time. I looked around for more undead and found none. The woman walked beside me, watching my limp.

"I fell in the woods. Tripped over an undead."

I said, earning a nod from her. After a short while we reached the front gate. The boy was watching me like Rick did, which wasn't the only similarity. He wore a worn Sheriff's hat and a dirty green t-shirt with jeans and muddy boots. Like the woman, he had no holster and I assumed he'd tuck it in his jeans as well. His face was covered with tiny freckles and his eyes were like Rick's.

_'His son?'_

I wondered. Rick stood in front of me then.

"I have to ask a few questions before I let you in."

He said. The woman gave him a disbelieving look while the boy continued to watch me. I nodded and so did he.

"How many walkers have you killed?"

He asked and I wanted to laugh. Walkers? That's what he called them?

"Over a dozen. Maybe."

I answered. I'd lost track after leaving the city. It had been overrun so quickly and the only way you could get out was to fight.

"How many people have you killed?"

He asked seeming to accept my first answer. The second question made me bite my tongue. I only ever did what I had to.

"One."

I answered honestly. The woman looked at me now with a look I couldn't place and Rick nodded again.

"Why?"

He asked. I was beginning to think he didn't trust me. Understandable.

"He tried to kill me."

Was my answer. I was not fond of the memory and regreted it once or twice since it happened. Rick nodded a third time and looked at the ground.

"Maggie, go find Herschel."

He said to the woman, Maggie. She nodded and headed up the road to the prison. The boy tucked his gun like I assumed and pulled the gate open. I stayed where I was because Rick had not yet moved himself.

"Do you need help?"

He asked. His gruff accented voice was quickly growing on me. I shook my head and limped forward. Behind me, the boy shut the gate but didn't follow Rick and I up the road.

"He's your son?"

I asked. Rick side glanced at me.

"He looks like you."

I explained. Instead of answering me, Rick continued walking and I remained silent. Walking through the doors I was led into a room with two round tables and a gate beyond that which led to the cells.

_'At least it's safe here.'_

I thought as I took a seat at one of the tables Rick motioned to. Maggie soon walked through the gated door followed by an elderly man on crutches. I assumed this was Herschel. She closed the door and when she moved, I noticed in the corner stood a man with a scowl that could kill.


End file.
